Sleepless
by ToxiNeena
Summary: Sometimes, just sometimes…being sleepless wasn't so bad at all. Post ACC.


_**First FFVII fanfic :) Yay! I've wanted to post this for a long time, wanted to write something for FFVII for, like, ever now. And I've finally had the motivation to finish this and post it. Merp. Let me know what you think! Please, constructive criticism is always welcomed and is very encouraged! Also, please let me know if Cloud seems a little OOC... I really liked the kind of "tortured soul" he came off as in ACC, so, I kind of stuck with that here. Who doesn't love a broody, angsty Cloud?**_

_**WARNING: **Major no-plot fluff ahead. It's sweetness may rot your teeth. Seek dental attention should you have any toothaches after reading this ficlet.  
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_**Sleepless**  
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_**by ToxiNeena  
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It was just one of those nights, Cloud assumed, where he was unable to sleep. The reasons varied from the sheer fact that he didn't have the need to, to the fear of those very vivid, very real nightmares. And lately, the latter, those nightmares, hadn't been the usual; the ones of him battling his own darkness in vain. They weren't of him struggling for his life, suffocating, gasping for air, bleeding out and feeling numb to the world. No…they were much, much different now all of the sudden. And, frankly, these dreams disturbed him—extremely so.

Not because the dreams were plagued with pale faces of death, or gaunt ones of Geostigma, or even those riddled of Mako poisoning. But, rather, because they all focused on the sudden, violent, disappearance of three people. Just three people.

Cloud supposed it was a bit ridiculous, really, to be so shaken over this—after all, it was just three, meager people; he'd seen more than thousands die before. But…of those people, the most important one with silky auburn hair that flowed down past her mid-back, the one with those smoky, ruby eyes that spoke volumes when her lips were pursed in thought, the one whose very scent drove him all but mad… That person was Tifa. His Tifa. And not just her…but the two children, the two smallest but equally as important people in his life. Denzel and Marlene. And the thought of them…disappearing? Dying…?

He almost choked on air, feeling his breathing turn to sudden rasps of panic.

They couldn't disappear. They couldn't…they _wouldn't_. After all, she was, well, _Tifa_—she would never leave him, she would always be right by his side, ever supportive of him; his rock, his stability, his only sense of reason in the unsteady realm of his weary mind—and they were Denzel and Marlene; his biggest supporters. Of course, he knew that this was only his fantasy. He knew that Tifa and the kids could very well leave him at any given time—after all, in life, it seemed that no matter how many times he struggled to achieved peace, all good things were suddenly ripped from him, leaving him bleeding and broken again. He was desperate to prevent such a thing from happening. Absolutely desperate. Positively desperate.

So desperate, in fact, that he had taken to curling Tifa's body into him while they slept. Not for any other reason than to just assure himself that she was real, and that yes, she was still here with him. Cloud needed, _craved,_ that reassurance. One would have thought that, out of the two of them, Tifa would have been the one to need a constant reminder that their life together was a reality. That they were really together once again. That he was here, that he wasn't leaving any time soon. This was true, really, but…she only needed an occasional reminder—a subtle kiss to the forehead here, a languid drag of his fingers across her knuckles there; something physical, something small.

What he needed, Cloud found, was much, _much_ larger than that. He needed to embrace her, to feel her body for himself, to know that she wouldn't be disappearing on him, dying on him.

To reinforce the fact that he wasn't going anywhere either.

It was one of those nights where all these thoughts whirled through his mind faster than Fenrir, leaving a knot of anxiety and fear pooling in the gut of his abdomen. It was one of those nights where he had to hold onto Tifa, spooning her against himself, in order to find a sliver of peace for his raging mind. And it was one of those nights where he simply found that he couldn't find the words to describe how much he needed her. He really did need her, almost more than air itself.

They had been together for more than half of their lives—as children, and then reunited as young adults. Having spent so long with her, it was rational, he supposed, that he found it simply…foreign to not be in her presence. Of course, during the outbreak of Geostigma, the case had been very much different—he had been a danger to not only her, but to Denzel and Marlene as well. He'd brought all of them enough trouble, and the last thing he'd wanted at the time, was to bring them more pain and suffering. Those two children were as important as Tifa was, really. Because, the longer he thought about it, the more he realized that the four of them made up a family.

A strange, disproportionate, helter-skelter, asymmetrical family that could hardly be matched, but a family nonetheless.

Cloud had a family. He had obligations now—he had responsibilities. And as he had learned previously…nothing came before family. Not even war. When he had left during the Geostigma epidemic, though it had been for the good of the family, Cloud knew that it caused a rift to form between him, Tifa, and the children. Because he had avoided them, for fear of worrying them about his own outbreak, for fear of endangering them more than necessary, they had begun to turn bitter towards him. Especially the girls.

Tifa, he knew, had been the most affected by his…absence. But she was an adult—albeit, a very, very young adult—and had tried to keep her true thoughts to herself for the greater good of the children. She was mature and had given him the benefit of the doubt upon his return. Marlene, however…

She hadn't understood—she'd thought that he didn't love them anymore, that he was leaving forever.

And the thought made his heart break.

When he had rescued her, found her in the woods, when she had ran to him in tears, clinging to his legs in desperation, she had demanded that he return home. Because she missed him. Because Denzel missed him. Because Tifa missed him. But…he hadn't been able to, because of the war, because of his own fear. And so when she had said,

"_Why don't you pay any attention to us, Cloud?"_

He had never felt…lower. More pitiful, more anguished.

Cloud felt his arms tightening around Tifa, curling into the space just underneath her breasts.

Just how could he mend that rift, exactly? Certainly not with kind words alone… Time was the answer; time, and physical declarations of repentance. As well as verbal. But…Cloud found that he was simply clueless when it came to these things—he had no idea how to apologize properly. He'd…never been taught.

"Can't sleep?" Tifa's voice was soft and thick with sleep and he blinked in surprise, not realizing that she had woken. Knowing her, she'd probably been awake for a while, waiting to see if he would fall back asleep on his own.

"I'm thinking," was Cloud's hesitant response. He was always thinking, always over-analyzing.

"The storm outside is pretty loud," she murmured to him, and it was only then that he heard the rain pounding against the window and the crack of thunder.

Maybe that was why he couldn't sleep. Rain… It reminded him of a lot of things—some, not particularly pleasant. Cloud rested his forehead on Tifa's shoulder, nuzzling his nose into the curve of her neck. It was a good thing, though, that she always made him forget all the bad things during nights like these when he needed the reminders the most.

"Nightmares?"

"Mmm…" he mumbled, inhaling.

That was all the confirmation that Tifa needed before she gingerly took one of his hands, brought it to her soft lips and then kissed his knuckles. She rubbed the back of his hand soothingly. While the actions were small and seemingly insignificant, they spoke volumes for Cloud, who could only hold her tighter against his body.

Tifa's voice was tender when she asked, "Were they bad?"

Cloud tensed up immediately. _"Yes," _he wanted to say. They were bad, like always. But they were even worse recently—he'd been seeing not just people die, but his _family_ die. Tifa, Denzel and little Marlene… Cloud felt himself shudder. He couldn't tell that to her, couldn't let her worry about it.

"Cloud?"

He sighed then. "Thank you…"

He could practically imagine the way her burgundy eyes widened in confusion and the way she set her jaw. "For what?" And like he'd predicted, her tone was full of bewilderment.

"For putting up with me." The "_and my demons"_ was omitted, but heavily implied and undoubtedly caught as she rolled over to look him dead in the eyes.

Even in the dark, Cloud could see the benevolent affection shining in her smoky eyes. She brushed the hair back from his forehead with a small smile. "You're worth it," she said simply. And then she pulled him down by the neck to plant a sweet kiss on his temple.

He was too tired to argue now, being lulled by the sound of the rain and the smell of Tifa as she continued to comb through his hair. Her fingers were light and dainty, gently brushing through the tangles she found and petting down some of the flyways. She tended to do that when he couldn't sleep, during nights like tonight, and while he'd never said anything about it, she knew that he appreciated it—welcomed it, even. Because, sometimes, even the mighty Cloud Strife needed to be soothed.

Outside, the thunder continued to bellow and roar, to the point that Tifa swore that it was shaking Seventh Heaven to its very core. The wind rattled against the bar, creating moaning and groaning that would undoubtedly have Marlene up and out of bed and running for Tifa and Cloud's bedroom fairly soon. And sure enough, there was the pitter-patter of small feet padding across the wooden floors. A quick glance into Cloud's eyes confirmed that he, too, had heard the sound.

A wry smile curving at the ends of his lips suggested that there was really nothing to be done about it. So, when their door creaked open, and a small squeak of, "Tifa? Cloud?" drifted to their ears, both adults sat up without much surprise. Marlene stood in their doorway, her favorite stuffed rabbit tucked tightly into her arms as she stared longingly out at them, her big eyes wide and glazed with sleep.

"Marlene, sweetheart," Tifa whispered.

"…I can't sleep," the little girl admitted, looking down at the floor and fiddling with the hem of her nightgown.

Behind her, Denzel's voice came, lighter and quieter, "Me neither…" He was huddled behind Marlene, looking sheepish, as though he was embarrassed to admit his troubles.

Cloud turned his head towards Tifa, catching the look in her eyes. They were warm and full of the comfort that she'd been giving him just moments before. She nodded at him then, a rueful smile on her pale-from-sleep lips, and he looked back towards the children, huddled in the doorway.

"Come here," he said softly, waving them towards the bed.

He hadn't even finished speaking before the both of them had dashed to the bed and practically leapt on top of Tifa and himself. Marlene quickly snuggled into Cloud's side as Denzel burrowed into Tifa's arms, the two children's backs touching. It was a tight fit, as the bed was made to barely fit two people, let alone four, but Cloud and Tifa made it work. He was pushed to the very edge of the bed, one of his arms thrown across Marlene and Denzel and coming to rest of Tifa's waist. She peered at him from over Denzel's head, smiling.

And though that night he didn't sleep, he didn't mind all that much. It was worth it the sleepless nights when he had his family with him, at least. The nightmares were held at bay, reality snug in his arms—literally.

Marlene's chin digging into his collarbone, Denzel's foot wedging between his knees, he, himself, teetering off the edge of the bed, but it was fine. More than fine. Better than fine. Tifa's hand found his, their fingers tangling and creating a protective shelter over the children as they slept through the storm raging outside.

Yeah…

Sometimes, just sometimes…being sleepless wasn't so bad at all.

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_**Yup. Short and sickly sweet. Ugh. Seriously. Why do I write so much fluff?! Oh...right. Because I have an incurable ClotiFam sweetooth... Ahem. Anywhoser. Review! It would be most helpful!**_


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